


Egg?

by Octlantis



Category: Twelve Forever (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 18:38:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octlantis/pseuds/Octlantis
Summary: egg?????more likely than you think!





	1. eg

Big Deal often tried his best, but emotions would always be her favourite food. Fear, confusion, anxiety, shame. Delicious, delicious shame.  
She could smell anyone's mood. A long time ago, she'd been able to use that to her advantage, but ever since Twelve got her grubby little fingers all over the Island, all she'd been able to taste was joy, excitement and the nauseatingly sweet *love*. It was absolutely repulsive, but at least in her home, she could block out all those tastes.

So imagine her excitement when she woke up to taste fear and shame on her tongue. Red claws raked underneath her fleece blankets, searching for the slightly sweaty lump that she allowed to crawl under her sheets the previous night.  
She opened her eyes, finding nothing but a cold imprint of her spherical minion at her side. She sat up, her nose high in the air as she traced the source of the smell, her red iris growing wider. She crawled forward on her hands and knees, chuckling under her breath.

"My, my. Big Deal, this may be your best work yet." She paused, looking up to the gold cage hanging from the ceiling.  
A shivering, fuzzy purple blob rattled the chain that held it above the ground, partnered with familiar, pathetic whimpers. Her claw seized two bars of the cage, pulling it closer to herself to peer inside.

Big Deal sat with his back to the bed, his short body hunched forward. He flinched as she crept forward, his thick arms reaching forward to shield his lap and the other half of the cage. "I'm so sorry, Ma'am!" He whined, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Four red talons pinched the skin at the back of his neck, her other hand holding the cage steady. She threw the irritating little blob over her shoulder, humming to herself as she heard him hit the bed with a yelp, then tumble to the floor.  
Big Deal groaned weakly as he picked himself up, peering over the edge of the bed. His body jerked in absolute panic as the witch plucked a single, pale violet egg from his nest of newspapers.

"One, two, three..." She piled the eggs in the crook of one arm, pulling back and settling down on her bed, laying the clutch on her soft blankets. "Five eggs. I had no idea you could do this, Big Deal. Ha! Looks like you don't have to go out to find my breakfast anymore!"  
She laughed, relishing the fear that clouded Big Deal like a delicious puff of cotton candy.

"Please don't, Ma'am." He grunted as he pulled himself onto the bed, reaching for the clutch. He yelped when his hand was smacked away, falling back to his butt with another whine. "I promise, it won't happen again. I just got so excited last night." His peach coloured cheeks flushed, and he lowered his gaze to his lap.

"What was so special about last night?" The witch picked up another egg, her eyes falling closed as she took a whiff. It reeked with shame, enough to make her mouth water. And yet...  
"Bleugh!" Her nose crinkled, throwing the egg in a quick, panicked motion. "Disgusting! Horrible! What *is* that?!"

Big Deal gasped, jumping up from the bed and snatching the egg from the air. He smiled nervously, bringing it down to rub his cheek against the smooth shell. "Y-You let me sleep in the bed." He murmured through his blush.

"They're all tainted! Covered in that sweet, revolting slime!" She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself, scowling down to the clutch. "You've ruined my breakfast, Big Deal. They're absolutely covered in *love*."

"Th-They're not for breakfast, Ma'am. They're just a mistake, I'll take them away." Big Deal stammered, reaching forward for the clutch again.

"How did this even happen?" The witch smacked his hand again, pointing to the remaining eggs to make her point. "Why were you hiding these, making such a delicious fuss?"

"I can only l-lay them when I get excited, Ma'am. And when I was under the covers last night, you put your arm over me..." Big Deal blushed again, cradling his only safe in both hands.

"You made these all because you got to sleep next to me?" The witch blinked, sitting back on her heels. She glanced down to the clutch, reaching up to toy with a piece of her hair. "Gah, do whatever you want with them. I don't care." She closed her eyes, waving her hand dismissively.

"Thank you, Ma'am!" He gasped, then started scooping up his eggs. "I-It'll only be for a few days, they don't keep very long!"

"Won't they hatch?" The witch frowned, watching him struggle to fly up to his cage and put them back in their nest with only one arm.

"No, Ma'am. They're empty." He called, assembling them in a proper, beautiful pile. He sighed, smiling down on his nest in pride.

"If you're so protective of dead eggs, I wonder how you'll react to real ones." The witch tapped a finger to her chin, her lips spreading into a wide, manic grin. She stood up, laying her claws gently on the little gremlin's shoulders.  
"I guess that's an experiment for another day, hm?" Her talons dug into his skin, her cheek brushing against his as she smirked down to the nest. She laughed as he squirmed, drinking in the new, wonderful scent of shame and excitement. It was almost worth the tinge of love that infested everything he touched.


	2. Egg? Prequel????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how does egg  
where egg come from?  
what is egg
> 
> and more!

“Unbelievable! Completely unacceptable!” Teacups smashed against the wall over a cowering Big Deal, his thick, flabby arms raised over his head to shield his face from the shards. 

“First that insolent child shrinks me down to the size of a doll, then she has the gall to call me fat once I find the cure! Ngah!” The whole teapot shattered above the small goblin, warm (but thankfully not hot) water drenching his head and shoulders. Shakily, he peeked up over his own arms to see the Witch crouched over the kitchen counter, her shoulders heaving in heavy, strained breaths. 

“I should make sure she never grows up, once and for all.” Red talons scraped into the linoleum surface, the ghastly sound sharp and unnatural in the air. Big Deal clapped his hands over his ears, whining and squeezing his eyes shut. The sudden movement made him wince, cracking open one eye to look down to his side. During the fight, he’d suffered a nasty bruise where Twelve’s hockey stick had struck his ribs, sending him flying halfway across the island. 

“Yes… Yes, this should do nicely. Don’t we have any rat poison?” The Witch snapped from the kitchen, a pot already boiling on the stove as she opened the pink cabinets. “Big Deal!”

“Oh.” Big Deal stood up with a struggle, then waddled over to the Witch’s side. “I-I’m sorry, Ma’am, I must have run out.” He held his side as he crouched down, trying to open the cupboard under the sink. 

“Out of the way, you moron! I know where it is, you’re just slowing me down.” She kicked his side, sending him flying across the room, thudding against the pink, furry wall. His limp body slid to the floor with a low groan. She felt a shiver of satisfaction as she took in a whiff of pain and fear, crouching down to root in the already opened cabinet. 

She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly after a beat. He wasn’t rushing back to his side, as he always did. Perhaps his loyalty was wavering. 

She snapped her head around, hissing at the purple blob, then cutting herself short. She blinked, her tongue sliding back into her mouth. 

Big Deal was lying on his side, both hands holding a rather dark bruise on his ribs. There were tears in the corners of his eyes, and he couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Or whimpering, but that was normal. 

“What have you done now?” She scoffed, crawling forward on her hands and knees. She sat back on her heels in front of the fuzzy dragon creature, then reached down to move his hands away. He flinched, recoiling back from her touch until she forcibly moved him into a more suitable position.   
“Explain yourself.”

“Oh…” He whined, his nervous eyes glancing around the room, anywhere the Witch wasn’t. She rolled her eyes, a single finger poking the dark bruise. He yelped, flinching away from her and twisting his body to the side, hugging his tail tight to his chest. 

The Witch sucked in air through her teeth, then stood up with a groan. “Go.” She pointed to her bed, and turned on her heel, marching back to the kitchen.   
“You’re lucky I haven’t added anything but the broth. Go!”

Big Deal knew better than to argue, so he picked himself up on shaking legs, then crawled up into the bed, sitting down with his back against her plush pillows. He allowed himself a moment of peace, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. The bed smelled just like her.   
“Wh-What are you making, Ma’am?”

“Since you refuse to take care of yourself, that responsibility falls to me. What a world we live in now… I must take care of you, children can beat a grown, beautiful woman with ease!” The Witch called, opening the upper cupboard doors and taking down rarely used ingredients. If Big Deal was keen enough, he’d be able to see the Witch pluck out a dried rose, just for a moment, before crushing it into a powder in her hands and sprinkling it into her pot. 

The potion started to smell almost pleasant, a rarity for one of her works.   
“Is that lavender, Ma’am?” Big Deal sat up straighter, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“Shut up.” She groaned, scooping the green liquid into a bowl. She stirred it with a small spoon, then moved towards the bed, sitting down at it’s side. She squinted at Big Deal until he lifted his arms, revealing the bruise. She spooned a thick, creamy green layer onto the darkened skin, and the little gremlin shivered in delight. 

“That’s so cooling.” He sighed, sinking back into the pillows. His arms fell to his sides, a dazed smile on his face as his eyes began to close. 

“Yes. An old recipe, and one I do not intend to use again.” She huffed, setting the bowl on the floor and licking her fingers clean. “If we’re going to work together, then you need to stop letting Twelve use you as her personal punching bag. You’re no use to me if you can’t move without flinching.” She turned back to face him, her nose crinkled in another scowl, before she stopped. 

Big Deal’s pudgy stomach rose and fell in his slow breaths, his mouth hanging wide open and a trail of drool already dripping down his left cheek. His fat tail twitched in his sleep, and he wore a dopey, open mouthed smile on his face.   
The ointment slowly seeped into his bruise, the darkened skin returning to it’s usual violet shade. Soon, there was no indication the cream, or the mark had ever been there. 

The Witch watched him for a few long beats, perhaps to make sure he was truly asleep. She looked around her chamber, to the bright, dangling lights overhead, to the furry wall still spotted with flecks of ceramic from her teapot. 

She clicked her fingers, and the lights turned off, bathing the chamber in darkness. Grumbling to herself about how much space Big Deal was taking up, she crawled into bed beside him. She lifted up the blankets, assuring herself it was only because if he grew sick from cold, she’d have to find a new servant.  
She curled up on her side, facing Big Deal, but only to make sure he was still breathing. 

After a few minutes, she slowly lifted her hand, laying it across his chest, over his shoulder. Only to keep him warm, of course. The blanket wasn’t enough for such a small, pathetic, stupid thing. 

Satisfied and smug, the Witch started to close her eyes. In the darkness, she felt a little grunt, and shuffling under the covers until Big Deal’s face nuzzled into her ribs, just below her chest.   
She couldn’t just move him, she decided. If he had a bad sleep, he wouldn’t be completely recovered by tomorrow, and then this nightmare had to continue. 

She could always punish him tomorrow.


	3. Egg!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you, Chai <3
> 
> Don't ask me why this took so long. I do not control the hyperfixations.

Big Deal was becoming even more useless by the day. His eggs always came up empty, no matter what she did. She tried letting him sleep in the bed, letting him brush her hair, she even praised his horrid cooking. Nothing.

The Witch still needed him, however. It took two to tango, as the kids liked to say.  
“Big Deal, come here.” She called, sitting in her side chair. A plastic baggie, a pair of gleaming silver scissors, and a mirror lay on the table beside her.

The little purple gremlin crept forward, wringing his tie as he eyed the very, very sharp scissors. “Ma’am, do you want me to cut your hair?” He asked, his eyes wide with hope and awe.

“Of course not. I’m perfect just as I am.” She narrowed her eyes into white slits, then picked up the scissors with two delicate fingers. Her other hand took the baggie, and she leaned down to Big Deal’s level.

He started to shiver, sweat glistening on his brow and cheeks as the sharp blades came inching closer to his neck. “M-Ma’am?” He croaked, his throat suddenly dry.

“Quiet. I don’t pay you to ask questions.” The cold blade touched his flushed cheek, and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut. He whimpered, his knuckles turning white as he wrung out his little tie.

“Y-You don’t pay- “

“You are repaid for your servitude by the honour of serving me. Is that not enough for you?”

Snnip. A single clump of green hair fell from just under his chin, into the open baggie waiting underneath. The Witch was silent as she worked, the scissors kissing his cheek as she moved for different angles, cutting under his jawline ever so carefully. He could feel her breath on his cheek as she switched sides, trimming his little green tufts down until they were just fuzz underneath his neck.

“Give me that.” She scolded, smacking his tense hands. He released his tie in a gasp, opening his eyes and watching the Witch’s face as she pulled his tie to its full length. He felt it tighten around his neck slightly, and he was pulled forward, inching closer to her face. Her breath. Her scent. His eyes glanced down to her lips, a single bead of sweat dripping down his cheek.

Snip. She cut the tie just beneath the knot and dropped it into the baggie. She stood up, setting the scissors down and closing the plastic bag. She waved him away dismissively, then moved to the kitchen.  
“That will be all.”

Big Deal swayed where he stood, breathless and flushed. He fell back to his bum, panting as his tie slowly grew back to its original length. He blushed to himself, rubbing the green fuzz where his tufts used to me.

_____________________________________________________________________________________  
In the dead hour of the night, the Witch began to work. She had to be up at this ungodly hour because Big Deal was so horribly thoughtful and considerate that he made breakfast at the crack of dawn, even though she never woke up before noon. Even now, she had to be careful about how loud she was being, or she would wake the little snoring blob in the bird cage.

It had been a long time since she’d baked anything, it was a marvel she could still remember the recipe. In the liquid ingredients, she dropped in Big Deal’s green hair, and a lock of her own luscious mane. She shredded his tie into tiny pieces, then stirred them in over a pot on the stove, letting the ingredients melt and blend together before adding it to her dry bowl. She worked the dough, her eyes narrowed in determination, her forearms already starting to burn from the labour.

“Six little soldiers marching one by one,  
Know that any cost, the war must be won  
Six will beat Twelve, and win Mother’s pride  
Borne from the flames, let rage be your guide!”

She murmured to herself before sliding six perfect little rolls into the oven, slowly letting them rise.  
A half hour before dawn, she took out the buns, a devilish smile crawling up her face as she admired her own work. The crusts were a crisp, golden brown, and they smelled heavenly, like only freshly baked bread could. She crept towards Big Deal’s cage, the pan in one hand, the other rooting around underneath him for eggs. She took out everyone, replacing them quickly with a warm bun. He snorted and stirred in his sleep, and she froze, her teeth bared as she scrambled for her excuse.

Then he drifted off to sleep again. Her shoulders sagged in relief, and she carefully replaced all his eggs with the little buns. She pulled back, exhausted and satisfied. She hid the pan, the eggs and dirty dishes under her bed, then crawled under the covers for a rest.

“Ma’am, Ma’am!” Something was on her bed. A very heavy, very loud something. The Witch opened her groggy eyes to see Big Deal sitting at her feet, the six buns in his lap. “Ma’am, something’s wrong! These aren’t eggs!”

“Of course they are, you moron. You’d laid again, just like yesterday. And the day before. And the day before… Mmph.” She groaned, tossing the blankets up over her head. “This is no excuse for waking me up. Go away.”

“This is bread! This isn’t… I mean, this isn’t what I expected!” He stammered, wringing his tie again, then slowly picking up one of the buns. It was just smaller than his head, and it felt so heavy in his hands. He smiled through his tears, nuzzling it gently. “Th-They’re still warm.”

“Of course they are, your fat little rump has been sitting on them all night.” The Witch grumbled under her covers.

Big Deal pulled back with a pout, staring at the lump under the blankets. He sighed, then carefully, gingerly picked up his new nest, and carried them down to the floor. He set them down in a careful pile, then counted them again.

His hand caressed one of the golden buns as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his vision blurry with tears, his nose already starting to run. Maybe it was an impossible dream. Maybe he and the Witch couldn’t really make something so wonderful happen. Still, it was nice to hope.

His hand jerked back with a gasp. A crack formed just underneath where his palm used to be. He looked to the others and saw more splintering cracks spreading over the crust. “Ma’am!” He yelped, scrambling backwards.

The Witch peeked her head out from under the covers, taking a long whiff, her snake tongue dancing in the air. She started to laugh, rolling out of bed and rising to her full height, her hands on her hips.  
“Finally.” She said in a low, deep voice, advancing on the shaking, cracking buns.

Big Deal scrambled to his feet, then ran behind his Ma’am, placing one hand against the side of her thigh as he peeked out. “Wh-What’s happening?”

“What’s happening? Why, your eggs are hatching, Big Deal.” She chuckled, approaching the nest with a wide grin, her red pupils dilating in a hypnotic pattern. “Of course, I added a little of myself into them. A lot of myself. My strength, my magic, my incredible powers… And of course, their father’s devotion to their mother.” She started to laugh louder, suddenly landing on all fours, leaning down to one of the rapidly cracking eggs. “Yes, yes! My own biological weapons against Twelve, the perfect killing machines! With these, Big Deal, we’ll finally take back what is rightfully mine.”

Chips of the crust fell away. The bun shook and rolled over to one side, the sight of a little reddish tail poking through. The Witch caught a glimpse of beautiful white hair.  
“Cheep.” Went the bun.

“Cheep?” The Witch blinked.

Four little arms broke free from the crust, and out tumbled a six-legged, tubby baby. It had white hair like its mother, a thick, chubby little body, wings on it’s first pair of arms, and a little red bow just between her horns. She shook herself off, then opened her wide, red eyes, sitting back on her rump. She tilted her head to the side. “Cheep?” 

“No. No, what? Uegh!” The Witch grimaced, then rushed to another shaking bun. Behind her, Big Deal shakily approached the baby, his eyes more tears than eyeballs. He sobbed, falling to his knees and scooping the little chirping hatchling into his arms, babblings sounds that were attempting to be words.

“No!” The Witch called from another bun, which had hatched into a four-legged little tubster with a bowtie and very wide, hopeful eyes. It giggled as the Witch hissed, then plopped down to its belly, waving its little arms and legs around.

“NO!” The Witch sat back on her heels, tearing at her hair.

Out of the largest bun plopped out the fluffiest baby, it’s eyes still closed. It slowly sat up on its rump, it’s bowtie crumpled and still dusted in flour. Its long tail flicked behind it like a contented cat, and its short arms rested on its pudgy belly.

Another six-legged child was hatched, but only about halfway. It chirped and panicked inside of its crust, it’s short little arms too weak to break through all the way. Big Deal scrambled to free it, scooping it up into his arms and sobbing uncontrollably, kissing the new hatchling just between the horns. The newest sibling squeaked, its neck covered in green fur just like it’s father, a little pink bow resting on one of its horns.

A very pretty hatchling toddled around on her hind legs already, giggling and laughing, throwing about bits of the crust around at its siblings. It had six arms, and a very wide bow on the back of it’s neck that it primped and preened whenever it felt particularly beautiful.

“All of them. Every last one.” The Witch sat with her head in her hands, her shoulders slumped as Bid Deal scrambled to hold every hatchling in his arms at the same time, which proved to be quite an issue for the especially squirmy ones. “They’re all useless and cute and disgusting. This was a complete failure.” She dropped her hands to her lap, her head bowed in defeat.

Her head suddenly snapped up. She frowned, turning to her left shoulder. The last hatchling, the smallest of them all, was biting and snarling on her shoulder, its little claws scraping her red skin and it’s mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Its little insect wings were buzzing as hard as the hatchling could muster, it’s tail wagging hard from side to side. Its pupils were already dilating in a hypnotic pattern during its rage.

The Witch started to smile, reaching down and pinching the hatchling behind the nape of its neck. It went limp, panting and growling as she held it in front of her face.  
“Congratulations, Big Deal. I have a child.” She chuckled, standing up straight and cradling the still growling hatchling in one arm. “I don’t care what you do with the others. Just make sure they don’t get on my bed.”

Big Deal couldn’t answer. He was buried under a pile of chirping, giggling hatchlings, wailing like a child. The room was filled with the sickly smell of love, but the one in the Witch’s arms was so full of spite and rage that it almost made it all worth it.  
She’d never been a mother before. This could be a lot of fun.


End file.
